


I Can Be The Subject Of Your Dreams (Please Don't Bite)

by princeofhellmichael (losther0es)



Series: Modern Myths [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer
Genre: M/M, Myth AU, luke as persephone, michael as hades, modern myth au, no one asked for this and yet here we are, undefined setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7132010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losther0es/pseuds/princeofhellmichael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a boy who smells like springtime and his skin is dotted with freckles from the summer sun. He licks his chapped lips and grins with malice, bloody teeth bared and a wicked gleam in his clear blue eyes. His dark heart beats for the man whose name sends chills down your spine and haunts the ground underneath us all. He has a vicious temper and is known to shake the very Earth to it’s core. But his smile is warm and enticing for the boy made of sunlight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Be The Subject Of Your Dreams (Please Don't Bite)

**Author's Note:**

> something i wanted to write way back and january then i finally decided it did not need to be longer than 1,000 words because then it would be my own personal hell.
> 
> this is for you stephie. i love you

There is a boy who smells like springtime and his skin is dotted with freckles from the summer sun. He licks his chapped lips and grins with malice, bloody teeth bared and a wicked gleam in his clear blue eyes. His dark heart beats for the man whose name sends chills down your spine and haunts the ground underneath us all. He has a vicious temper and is known to shake the very Earth to it’s core. But his smile is warm and enticing for the boy made of sunlight. 

-

The Gods have long since forgotten their names. They’ve been rewritten as seasons and science. No one thanks Apollo and Artemis for bringing the sun and the moon, or Nyx for the night sky. They do not curse Demeter for the winters or Poseidon for storms. Yet they still fear death, though they’ve changed her name and she has become something of a ghost story that no one is willing to accept her for what she truly is. 

-

Michael leans against a dirty brick wall, watching people meander by. They soak up the dregs of summertime and pay no mind to the man bundled in a leather jacket despite the heat. He had dark sunglasses hiding his eyes and a frown almost permanently etched into his face. They all ignore the monochromatic man as they bustle by, hurrying before the sun dips into the ground and the moon is hung delicately. His breath puffs out in a cloud like the smokers only a few feet from him and his hands are chilled. 

Michael’s body is anticipating the winter already, though he had a week still to wait. Normally he is reclusive, never stepping a foot out of the Underworld. But the last six months have been dragging by achingly slow, though maybe that is time playing with him. Or maybe it’s the pull of the boy who smells like grass and lavender who keeps his hands warm.

Six months without their home filled with growing vines and trees swaying in a gently breeze. It gets awfully cold while he is gone and Michael wants to bring the warmth back to the Underworld as well as the cavity in his heart. 

Michael startles when he feels arms twine around his waist and he doesn’t settle back until Luke buries his head in Michael's neck. His body reacts instantly, molding into the body behind him and warming up immediately. Luke presses his lips to his racing pulse, laughing quietly. Michael’s heart swells at the closeness and comfort he’s feeling but he has to remind himself not to get his hopes up too high. He still has a week here on Earth. 

-

They both know the stories. How before they stole their new names, Hades had forced Persephone to stay, force feeding him the seven pomegranate seeds. How Demeter had been filled with so much anguish that she nearly killed the Earth with the first winter. Those stories choose not to focus on the part where Luke had begged for Michael to never let him go and how they had made love in a garden of bleeding hearts. Or the hemlock that would grow on the gothic windows of Michael's home. The baby’s breath twisted in Luke’s hair. The way Luke’s mouth had bleed after eating the fruit. 

Death herself had told Michael that keeping the boy here was killing the lands and their inhabitants, that his mother would not stop until she got him back.

“But he’s mine!” Michael’s voice had boomed, shaking the kingdom and the mountains above it. 

“He is no one's, your highness.” Death corrected, pointing an accusing finger at him. 

Luke had screamed and cried that night, begging for Michael not to let him go.

“Please, you said you love me! You love me!” He had yelled, and the words stung. 

When Luke had finally settled down enough to sleep, Michael had slipped through the gates and found himself at Demeter’s door. 

Demeter, while unimpressed with the King of Darkness on her doorstep, had to at least give him credit. His proposition must have been hard on him, the way his hands shook and rage filled his eyes. 

“Six months. That’s all you get with him. Then he is mine. You don’t get to take him away from me, if that is what he chooses.” Michael had sneered. Demeter consented, only because she had seen Death leaning against her apple tree out front that morning and would really rather not have that interaction. Not yet at least.

-

Luke took to staying in London while on Earth. He liked that even in the summer heat that there was a storm brewing and a gentle breeze washing through the city streets. His bed had always felt empty, though. He would wake in the wee hours of the morning, reaching out to grasp onto something, anything, but only grabbing silky sheets. In the afternoons he would sit on street corners at a small little cart always filled with fauna, weaving crowns in his hands. He wore one of deep red roses the color of welling blood to remember his lover down beneath the earth. For six months Luke would sit and watch the silver chariot drag the moon across the sky and he would blow a kiss to the stars, knowing Michael was watching them too. 

Sundays were dedicated to his mother. They would sit on her patio and drink tea, retelling stories of before and how they missed it. Demeter would smile sadly when Luke spoke of Michael, nodding her head and trying not to let the tears spill down her cheeks. Her small, sweet boy was a king in his own right. He wore a crown of thorns and had a heart of stone beating in his chest. He was vicious and terrifying. A nightmare wrapped in crushed velvet. 

-

Luke’s arms burst into goosebumps when he pulled Michael into his space. It felt right to have him tucked into his arms and Luke’s nose pressed against the sensitive skin in his neck. He almost wants to drag the man up to his small apartment and tear him up, but he still has a week of summer to give. 

“Michael?” Luke murmured, lips dragging across the pale skin. 

“Hmm,” The blonde answered, eyes closed and reveling in the warmth. 

“Come upstairs with me.” Luke asked softly. 

“You and I both know I can’t do that. Six more days, then you’re home with me petal. Six more.” Michael says, his voice tight. 

Luke drops his forehead onto Michael's shoulder, letting out a frustrated sigh. Michael chuckles at him, rubbing his thumb over the back of the boy’s hand. 

“They can deal with one chilly night, can’t they?” He asks, knowing the answer though. 

Michael turns in Luke’s arms, settling his own around the taller boy’s neck. His green eyes scan over the pale skin, thumb tracing over his cheekbone softly. Luke’s eyes flutter shut, long eyelashes settling on his skin. Michael smiles sadly, tilting the boy’s chin back up so he can kiss him softly. 

“I have to go back home.” The bleached blonde says, unlacing his fingers from Luke’s hair. 

“Stay.” Luke asks, anticipating the answer already. 

“Six more days.” Michael answers, pressing their lips together chastely before walking off to fade into the crowds of people. Luke feels the warmth flood back into his fingertips and he’s never missed the chill so badly. 

-

Hades keeps Persephone for six months out of the year, a crown of spikes on the bleached hair, roses threaded through sandy curls. The grounds above them are cold and freezing, Demeter weeps in her arm chair waiting for her son to come back home. Michael kisses the warm fingertips, deep red juice dripping from them as the skies crack open with snow and ice. Luke’s toes curl as Michael kisses him and trees grow their winter coats. 

 

Luke goes back to Earth for six months, a promise on his lips that he will always come back. That he won’t leave Michael for long. Michael kisses him thoroughly, as if he’ll forget what Luke looks like, feels like, tastes like. 

 

Persephone always come back, with vengeance in his smile and Hades will welcome him with arms wide and a smile just for him.


End file.
